Blue_Opossum

Morning of May 1, 2015. Friday.



Much of this dream was a bit too abstract to describe the first part of correctly. All the members of my family and I are making things to sell. We seem to be at a picnic table outside in our backyard. The most vivid part does not make any sense. I have made a salad with a lot of leafy green vegetables in it as well as other ingredients such as slices of tomatoes. I pick up a short section of a large even branch from the ground which has seemingly been sawed on both ends. It is a little less than the diameter of my arm. (We do have a short log in our yard in reality but it is bigger than the piece in my dream.) I put the salad on the branch (though I think of it as a small log in my dream) and hold it onto the branch piece with the curved piece of wood (which fits halfway around the circumference of the branch) over all of it. I notice that the wood piece has three screws on it which are aligned to three holes in the branch (one near each side and one in the middle). By tightening the screws, the salad will be kept in place on the surface of the branch by the curved piece of wood until it is ready to be eaten. I notice a small jumping spider crawling up the side of the branch and shake it off - as people will probably not buy it if it has a spider on the salad. (I have found that the term “salad log” exists, so maybe there is a vague association, though I do not recall thinking of this term at any previous time.)

In another section of possibly a different dream sequence, I am doing something involving the usage of postage stamps while sitting on a bed, which seem to have to be American postage stamps to do what I need to do, but there is one point where I cannot find them again (which does not make much sense as I had just seen them previously, having had at least a couple near me). I seem to be in my sister’s house on Loomis Street and am possibly a teenager again. I am not exactly sure of what I am doing. It may relate to drawing or tracing. At one point, I am standing in a featureless semi-dark room and hug my sister and tell her that I love her even though I am also aware to some extent that she has died in reality. She seems very old and frail. There is some sort of concern about where certain stamps are. I pick various foreign ones off the floor at one point. They seem to be kept in a few different smaller cylindrical containers. My sister talks about them but is not sure of their location.

In another part of my dream sequence, I am in a large room with several other people. Many of the people are unknown and of different races. We are all watching “Lost” on a television. However, it is a later version of “Lost”, yet which is a drama concerning earlier situations on the island. Over time, I notice that John Locke is not being played by Terry O'Quinn but a much younger actor. I notice that he has face paint of black and red (and yellow at one point), the black paint being mostly on his forehead and coming down to just below his eyes. He is amusingly dressed and speaking like a stereotypical pirate for some reason and says “Rrrrrr…” at the end of at least one comment he makes. I am a bit annoyed by this version of “Lost” having the same characters but played by different actors, my annoyance growing over time, which I express to the others. I even look it up on the Internet in-dream to see who the actor is that now plays John Locke. However, I cannot remember the original actor’s name and become a bit frustrated over knowing when the different actor took over the role. I see that there is a (fictional) eighth season of “Lost” and possibly more beyond that. In fact, the eighth season seems to have been the last one to star Terry O'Quinn, the plot of the last episode of season eight seeming to relate to Kate and John becoming lost.

Finally, I am at my older brother (deceased) Earl’s house. I do not see him, but his wife Cindy is there. There are a lot of other people in the room including their children and unknown younger people. I am annoyed because Cindy is blocking my way to the front door (even though we are more near the center of the living room near a large table) but I do not show my frustration. I had taken a couple vitamins that are more like headache tablets and there is white powder on the table which I am trying to put back into a capsule or at least elsewhere. (I have never been able to willingly swallow pills of any kind in my life, even very small ones, so I crush headache tablets up into white powder and put them in a drink when I need to take them although I more often use a form of special meditation to erase one when I can.)

In one final dream event, an unknown male knocks on the door and seems to have something important to tell me. However, it soon turns out to be nonsense (which I cannot remember) and he becomes distracted, going elsewhere. This was slightly precognitive in that we actually did have a rare visitor shortly after but he left fairly quickly after knocking. He went to the next house over and was probably selling pay television subscriptions or possibly Internet-related services.